


Distress

by Babybucky1943



Series: Collared [8]
Category: Marvel D/s AU
Genre: Bucky eats stuff he shouldn’t, M/M, Sickfic, Vomiting, clint is helpful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-10-26 09:08:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17742998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Babybucky1943/pseuds/Babybucky1943
Summary: Steve left on a mission with STRICT instructions for Bucky to behave. Bucky seems to attract bad impulsive decisions.This Sickfic chapter is written for Emma who requested that Bucky have tummy troubles while Steve was gone.As always, thanks for all your love and support, lovelies. <3





	Distress

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Emma](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emma/gifts).



Steve had hardly slept for worrying about Bucky.He’d wanted to sleep, and had drank about seven beers at the team get together last night to try to relax. He couldn’t get drunk, but it did help him relax. He’d even let Bucky have a few sips of his beer to calm his nerves too.

Bucky had shaken his head to more than a few sips, saying that his system was very easily overpowered with alcohol. It was true. He’d been a little tipsy after just that little bit.

Steve smiled at the thought of being able to get Bucky drunk easily.

He sighed again, his thoughts turning towards today.

_**IT**_ had happened. Steve was needed on the mission field today. Thinking of leaving Bucky alone made him nervous. Despite all the beers, he hadn’t slept much. 

True though, ever since the day he had told Bucky that nothing could make Steve kick him out, his darling sub had been steadily getting stronger. He was starting to talk above a whisper more often and he was actually giggling here and there when Steve would blow a raspberry on his neck.

Bucky had assured him he’d be fine.

It was supposed to just be a few hours plus flight time, he would be back by dinner time. He needed to trust Pepper to look after Bucky. She was a good domme. She would be there for him.

He also needed to trust Bucky.

Outside of the continued incontinence and the occasional biting he was getting a lot better.

He propped himself up on one elbow and gazed at Bucky. His long dark hair was spread out on the pillow, face relaxed in sleep. He was so adorable. Steve’s collar looked so natural around his slim throat. The heart shaped diamond rested directly above the slight dip in his throat where Steve could see his heart beat. He loved him so much, even without ever having any physical intimacy.

Bucky seemed to sense his gaze because he sleepily opened his eyes and smiled at Steve. “Hi.” He eyed his dom for a moment. “Stop worrying! I’ll be fine.”

The fact that Bucky could pick up on his emotions that easily spoke volumes as to how far he’d come in two weeks. They were definitely bonding.

“I can’t help it,” Steve protested gently. “I’ve never left you.”

“It’s one day. You’ll be back tonight, right?” Bucky questioned, stretching and squirming like a cute worm.

Steve nodded, clenching his fists to stop from grabbing Bucky and kissing his sweet lips.

“How much trouble can I possibly get into in ten hours?” He smiled again, kissing Steve’s arm.

Steve’s eyebrows flew to his hairline, kisses forgotten. “Trouble?!? No no no no no!! You better be good! Watch tv, remember to eat what I left in the fridge for you, Pepper and Clint are both here.”

“Clint’s not going?” Bucky asked.

Steve groused a sigh. “No. He didn’t obey Tasha’s order and ended up spraining his wrist so he can’t shoot his bow.”

Bucky didn’t externalize the happy dance. Since the first few awkward times, he and Clint had become pretty good friends.

He would miss Steve terribly but he tried not to be overt about it. Actually he tried not to think about how terrified he was that Steve was leaving. 

Steve was already a wreck about leaving him.

Once they were up and Steve was in his gear, Bucky held onto Steve and cuddled.

“Your lunch is in the fridge,” Steve reminded him.

Bucky nodded, nibbling gently on Steve’s earlobe. 

“Don’t use the stove,” Steve added, patting his ass lightly. “Can’t have you burning down the tower.”

Bucky grinned. “I won’t.” He nuzzled into Steve’s neck, wrapping his arms around his dom’s neck. 

“Also.” Steve paused until he had Bucky’s attention. “Stay in. I don’t want you getting lost.” Steve’s eyes were such a deep blue as he looked straight into Bucky’s soul.

Bucky nodded solemnly. He knew he wouldn’t get lost. Steve was afraid Moseley or Cairn would find him. He didn’t want Bucky out of the tower, unprotected.

Then, Jarvis announced that the quinjet was waiting on Cap.

Bucky bit his bottom lip to stop the protests he wanted to cry out, and pasted on his brightest smile. “I’ll see you tonight!”

Steve kissed his forehead gently. “Yes. Be good.” His eyes were a little wet and shiny.  

When the door had closed, Bucky allowed himself to sink to his knees and indulge in a good cry. His anxiety had already run every possible scenario of Steve getting hurt or killed about twenty times over. His stomach felt nauseous but that was probably more from not eating breakfast yet. He’d been more concerned with holding onto Steve. He wrapped his arms around his middle until he felt calmer.

He went to the kitchen. The apartment felt so huge and empty now that he was alone. He supposed he could put his leash on and pretend Steve was just in the bedroom getting ready to go out. 

Bucky sighed and opened the fridge instead. His lunch was neatly packed into colour coded containers. Red was meat, blue was vegetables, green was starches. It was barely eight o clock. Too early for lunch.

He didn’t want cereal. Eggs were out. He could use the microwave.He screwed up his face with disdain. Microwave cooking sucked. He rooted around in the fridge for something that might appeal to his appetite. With Steve gone, he didn’t feel hungry but he knew Steve would want him to eat something.

There was a medium sized pink bowl near the back. Curious, Bucky pulled it out and opened it. It looked like chocolate pudding! He wasn’t really allowed many sweets....but Steve wasn’t here. Just a bite?

He grabbed a spoon. A bite yielded a plethora of yummy flavours. There was chocolate, cherry, a tangy zing he couldn’t place that accented the sweetness. He thought about it. It was good. Very creamy and smooth. After a moment’s hesitation he grabbed a cereal bowl and gave himself a generous helping of the sweet, chocolatey concoction. He wondered what Steve would say. Better if he didn’t mention it.

It didn’t take long to eat and he drank a large glass of milk to combat the sweetness. It was really sweet. He sucked on his tongue to try and get rid of the sugar residue. He hoped Steve had maybe forgotten about that bowl. He’d surely notice that much gone! He was still wondering what it was. Now it sat like a rock in his tummy. Was he going to regret eating it? Probably. Bucky was far too impulsive for his own good.

He went to turn on the tv. His stomach was a bit nauseous but he decided to ignore it. His head felt funny. Not drop funny. Just....cloudy. His anxiety had eased though. Actually his anxiety had disappeared in the warm weird feeling spreading through him. 

He wondered if Steve had gotten to his mission. He’d left Bucky a Starkpad to communicate on. He checked it now. No messages. He decided say hi to Steve. “Hi Steve. Hope your flight is good.” It took more effort than usual to type. His fingers felt uncoordinated.

A knock on the door made him perk up. “Clint?”

“Yep,” came from the other side, before Clint came in, hauling a box of electronics. “I brought my PS3.”

Bucky put a hand on his belly. He was not comfortable. Maybe he needed to use the bathroom. “You set it up. I’ll be right back.” He darted to the bathroom, barely making it.

He felt sorta dizzy. He could NOT be sick! He tried not to think about the chocolate stuff. It made the nausea worse.

His stomach settled after that for about half an hour and he got lost in playing Assassin’s Creed. He was so caught up in his gameplay and trying to focus around the gray sleepy feeling, he hardly realized how nauseous he was until he burped and almost vomited.

He shuddered and paused the game. “I need a drink,” he told Clint, staggering to the kitchen and pouring a large glass of water.It was hard to lift to his mouth. He downed it in a few large gulps when he succeeded and leaned against the sink, his stomach churning. His head was full of cotton. 

“You good?” Clint asked when he fell into his seat again a few minutes later.

Bucky was as stubborn as a mule and wasn’t about to admit he didn’t feel well. “I’m good,” he said shortly, clamping his teeth tightly, for fear he might actually throw up if he opened his mouth.The tv was blurry.

Just then his Starkpad went off with the Skype jingle. He rolled his eyes. Now Steve wanted to talk. He shakily grabbed the tablet and answered the call. “Hey,” he said, with a tight smile, trying to make Steve come into focus.

Steve frowned. “What’s wrong?”

Bucky held his head a little straighter. “Nothing. All good. Playing PS3 with Clint.” His eyes felt like they were doing a damn polka.

Steve relaxed. “Okay. Good. Just wanted to check in. We’re landing in ten minutes.”

Bucky nodded, then regretted the movement immediately. “Stay safe.” A loud hiccup escaped his throat and he swallowed desperately.

Steve was, fortunately, distracted. “I will, baby. Be good. Love you.”

Bucky nodded. “Love you too.” His words were strained as he fumbled for the end call button.

Clint was watching him. “You sure you’re okay? You....sound drunk.”

Bucky knew the water was gonna come up. He held up a finger and made dizzily for the bathroom. He fell gracelessly to his knees in front of the toilet, his stomach expelling the water. 

After throwing up, his stomach felt a little calmer again, but did nothing for the blurred vision. He rinsed his mouth, trying to ignore the normal fuzziness at the edges of his brain. He could NOT drop today!

Steve had been worried about that and Bucky had promised he’d be fine. Of course he hadn’t anticipated being sick. Sickness could bring a drop on fast. On top of the head full of cotton and the blurry vision, a drop would be enough to end him up in the hospital.

He breathed slow and easy until he felt the darkness subside, then went slowly back out to Clint. He was trying to walk straight but failing miserably.

The archer had paused the game, looking at him keenly. “Are you sick?”

Bucky grimaced. His stomach was starting up again. “I think I ate something that’s not agreeing with me.”

“Wha’d you eat?” Clint immediately asked, concerned.

Bucky doubled over as the nausea burned into his abdomen. “Uh...stuff in a pink bowl. Chocolate.”

Clint got up to investigate. He found said bowl and brought it back. “This?”

Bucky nodded. “It tasted good...”

Clint sniffed it and grimaced. “Bucky! This smells like liquor!! I don’t know what it is butyou’re acting like you’re drunk!” He put it away again.

Bucky groaned a little. “It’s chocolate! I can’t get drunk on that. Just go home,” he gasped to Clint. “I’ll be okay.”

“I don’t think that’s smart,” Clint worried. “What if you drop?”

Bucky let out a soft cry as a sharp cramp cut through him. “I sure as hell ain’t calling Pepper. And Steve’s busy.” He bit his lip hard to stop from crying.

“Even though that’s who you want more than anyone else in the world.” Clint’s voice was soft and low with the truth of the statement.

Bucky nodded, forcing himself not to let the tears fall. He wanted Steve to come home and make it all better! He hated being sick! Or whatever this was.

“You sure you don’t want Pepper?” Clint rubbed Bucky’s leg gently.

“I’m sure,” Bucky gasped, catapulting to his feet again and trying to run for the bathroom.He tripped on his own feet, sprawling awkwardly on the floor. He clamped a hand over his mouth. 

Clint got him back on the couch and brought him a puke pail.

Once Bucky was through puking again and sat back exhausted, Clint gave him a wet washcloth. “You don’t drink much, do you?”

“I can’t,” Bucky whispered. “Alcohol for me is like sugar for kids. A little goes a long way.”

“Maybe having some lunch will help?” Clint asked.

Bucky shrugged. “It’s in the fridge. In the coloured containers.”

Clint warmed up the food and helped him eat a little lunch.

A few bites and Bucky pushed it away. His stomach was protesting strongly. “It’s not gonna stay down,” he groaned. 

The next four hours were spent laying curled on the couch intermittently crying and puking into the bucket. Lunch didn’t stay down long.

Bucky moaned into his flesh arm, feeling his stomach cramp again. “I gotta get up,” he whimpered.

Clint had tears in his eyes as he felt his friend’s anguish. He helped him up and supported him. They got to the bathroom and Bucky stumbled in, half shutting the door. His soft sobs were breaking Clint’s resolve.He needed to call Pepper!!

Once Bucky was comfortable again, Clint tried to encourage him to call Pepper. At least the domme would be some help.

Not knowing how to help was starting to make him feel distressed as well. He knew what it was like to be sick when your domme wasn’t close enough to come to your aid.

Bucky’s stubborn response was awhile in coming and it wasn’t very convincing. Finally he nodded. “Okay. Get Pepper. I feel awful.”

Somewhat relieved, Clint promised he’d be right back.

Bucky writhed alone on the couch, sweating and trying to swallow the nausea down.

Pepper came running in a few minutes later, with Clint hot on her heels, looking extremely worried.

“Bucky! You were supposed to call me if anything happened!”

Bucky burst into tears that were interrupted by the need to gag with dry heaves as his stomach tried to get rid of whatever was making him sick. “I want Steve!” He sobbed when he could finally talk.

Pepper gathered him into a hug, washing his flushed face with a cool cloth. “Shhh. Let’s call Steve.”

She used the Starkpad to call Steve, holding it so that Bucky could see the screen too.

Steve came on screen, a smile on his face from something one of his teammates had said. “Hi Buck....” he trailed off his face immediately tense. “What happened!?!”

“He’s sick,” Pepper explained calmly. “Clint told me he ate something he probably shouldn’t have.”

“What did he eat?!” Steve demanded nervously. His sub looked awful!

Tasha appeared behind him. “What’s going on?”

Clint returned with the culprit, showing it to Steve.

Bucky was curled into Pepper’s lap, his sobs lessening to hiccups. The clouds in his brain were blocking out all coherent thought.

“Bucky!!” Steve cried, slapping his hand to his forehead. “You ate THAT?!?”

Bucky nodded a little, his eyes wide and tear washed. “I tasted a little and it was good.” Steve was really blurry. He thought he might be dropping.

Tasha was snorting in the background, trying to contain her laughter. “Steve! You left that where he could get it?”

“What is it?” Pepper asked.

Steve blushed bright red. “It’s my chocolate cherry liqueur filling that I use to make my chocolates with.”

Pepper looked at him a long moment. “Oh. So meant to have in small doses.”

“Yes,” Steve groaned. “I use Tony’s aged liqueur.” He shook his head in disbelief. “Did you just have a little? It’s got a lot of stuff in it that’s not good in large quantities.” His voice was gentle.

Bucky started to cry again as he shook his head. “I ate a cereal bowl full.”

“A BOWL—!!” Steve sat back, rubbing a hand over his face for a long minute. “I guess that answers my question. He’s drunk off his ass, Pepper. I’m almost home. Try to keep him from dropping.”

Pepper held him until he needed to run to the bathroom again, at which point Clint helped him.

Pepper sighed. Leave it to Bucky to eat an entire cereal bowl of chocolate filling with liquor in it. He must have quite a buzz. Steve was famous for his divine chocolates.

Bucky came back to the couch, weaving dizzily and giggling now. “Is Steve almost home?” The nausea was abating but the clouds in his head were making everything feel and sound really funny. 

“Yes.” She wiped the sweaty hair back from his forehead. “Have you ever been drunk before?”

Bucky giggled again. “Uh once I think. I’m not allowed to drink. I can’t hold my liquor at all.”

Pepper chuckled. “I guess that explains why you’re so tipsy.”

“Not tipsy,” he pouted, ironically losing his balance at that moment. Only Clint’s quick grip on his arm saved him from face planting onto the floor.

Steve walked in a few minutes later, putting his shield and cowl down. He gathered Bucky into his arms and sighed. “I’d thought of getting you a little drunk at some point to loosen you up but the first time I go on a mission is not the ideal time!”

”You gonna punish me S-sssir?” Bucky slurred, trying to focus, before collapsing onto Steve’s shoulder in a fit of giggles.

Steve shook his head. “I have a feeling the hangover you’ll have tomorrow will be punishment enough. We are going to have a long talk about eating food that’s in the fridge once you’re sober though.”

A few minutes later, Bucky had sunk deep into a drunken sleep, his stomach finally having settled enough to allow him to sleep. He could also relax now because Steve was here. He was safe now. 

Tasha took her own sub home, still chuckling about Steve’s chocolates. 

Steve thanked Pepper, then sat down on the recliner, Bucky snoring on his shoulder. “I leave for one damn day,” he muttered. Next time he’d take Bucky with him. It couldn’t be any worse than this. Could it?


End file.
